After supper the whole party went to the large drawing-room to dance.
Kit Cameron made a bee-line for Patty. "You'll give me the first dance, won't you?" he said, simply, "because I've stayed away from you all supper time."
Patty hesitated. "I'm willing, Mr. Cameron," she said, "but for one thing. I'm awfully exacting in the matter of dancing, and if you're not a good dancer it would go far to spoil our pleasant acquaintance. Suppose we don't risk it."
Cameron considered. "I am a good dancer," he said, "but Marie has told me that you're something phenomenal in that line. So I daresay you will be disappointed in me. All right, suppose we don't risk it."
Cameron half turned away, as if he had relinquished the idea of dancing with Patty, and that young woman was somewhat taken aback. She had assumed her new friend would insist on dancing with her, and she had no mind to let him escape thus. She was just about to say, impulsively, "Oh well, let's try it, anyway," when she caught a gleam from the corner of his eye, and she realised in a flash that he felt sure she would call him back!
This was enough for capricious Patty, and she turned away from him, but not so quickly but that she saw his face suddenly fall, proving that she had been quite right in her diagnosis of the case.
She smiled on Van Reypen, who was hovering near, and he came to her at once.
"Our dance, Patty?" he said, eagerly, holding out his hand.
"Yes, Philip," she answered simply, laying her hand in his, and in a moment they were circling the room.
"Don't be cross to me, will you, Philip?" said Patty with an appealing note in her soft voice.
"No; you little torment, you. I'll never be cross to you, if you won't flirt with other men."
"Philip," and Patty spoke quite seriously, "I'll be cross with you, if you don't stop taking that attitude with me. It isn't for YOU to say whether I shall flirt with other men or not!"
"No, I know it;" and Philip was unexpectedly humble. "I wish it was for me to say, Patty."
"Stop talking nonsense, or I'll stop dancing with you! By the way,Phil, you're an awfully good dancer."
"I'm glad there's something about me that pleases your ladyship."
"Yes; so am I. It certainly isn't your temper!"
And then Philip smiled into Patty's eyes, and peace was restored, as it always was after their little squabbles.
The dance over, they sat for a few moments, and then Kenneth Harper asked to be Patty's next partner.
"All right, Ken," said Patty; "but sit down here just a minute; I want to watch the others."
What Patty really wanted was to see Mr. Cameron dance; and in a few moments he went past them with Elise.
"That man's all round clever," commented Kenneth. "He dances just as he plays the violin, exquisitely. Why, Patty, he's a poem in patent leathers!"
Sure enough, Kit Cameron was an unusually fine dancer, and Patty felt a slow blush rising to her cheeks, as she remembered what she had said to him, and realised he must have thought her vain of her dancing.
For once, Patty felt honestly ashamed of herself. She had implied that she was such a fine dancer she didn't care to dance with any one unskilled in the art.
But after all, this was not quite Patty's attitude. When a stranger was introduced to her, she was quite willing to dance with him, whether he danced well or not. But as to Mr. Cameron, Patty liked him so much and so enjoyed his beautiful music, that she really felt it would be a shock to their friendship if he danced awkwardly.
And, too, she never for a moment supposed he would take her at her word. She had supposed he would insist upon the dance, even after her hesitation.
"What's the matter Patty?" said Kenneth; "you look as though you'd lost your last friend!"
"I'm not sure but I have," said Patty, smiling a little. For certainly Mr. Cameron was the last friend she had made, and it was very likely that she had lost him.
"Well, never mind, you still have me left. I'm gentle and I'm kind, and you'll never, never find a better friend than your old Ken."
"I believe you're right," and Patty smiled at him. "We've been friends a long time, haven't we, Ken?"
"We sure have. When I look at your gray hair and wrinkled cheeks, I realise that we are growing old together."
Patty laughed and dimpled at this nonsense, and then declared she was ready to dance.
All through the evening, Patty was gaily whisked from one partner to another, but Kit Cameron never came near her.
She was decidedly chagrined at this, even though she knew she had only herself to blame for it. She had been really rude, and she was reaping the well-deserved consequences.
Often she passed Cameron in the dance, as he whirled by with another girl. He always smiled pleasantly as they passed, and the fact that he was a magnificent dancer only made Patty feel more angry with herself at having been so silly.
Just before the last dance, Patty stood, gaily chatting with several of her friends, when the music struck up, and both Kenneth and Philip claimed the dance.
"You promised it to me, Patty," said Kenneth, reproachfully.
"Why, Ken Harper, I didn't do any such thing!" and Patty's big blue eyes gazed at him in honest surprise.
"Of course you didn't, you promised it to me," said Van Reypen, equally mendacious.
"Why, I didn't promise it to anybody!" declared Patty; "I haven't promised a dance ahead this whole evening."
As she stood, with the two insistent applicants on either side of her,Cameron walked straight toward her. He said not a word, but held outhis arm, and calmly walking away from her two disappointed suitors,Patty was at once whirled away.
"Well, Princess Poppycheek,—Princess Pink Poppycheek,—I had to surrender," Cameron said, as they floated around the room. "After your cruel aspersion on my dancing, I was so enraged I vowed to myself I'd never speak to you again. But I'm awful magnanimous, and I forgive you freely, from the bottom of my heart."
"I haven't asked to be forgiven," and Patty shot him a saucy glance; "but," she added, shyly, "I'm truly glad you do forgive me. I was a pig!"
"So you were. A Poppycheeked piggy-wig! But with me, what is forgiven is forgotten. And, by the way, you dance fairly well."
"So I've been told," returned Patty, demurely. "And I find I can get along with you."
This sounded like faint praise, but each knew that the other appreciated how well their steps suited each other and how skilful they both were.
Van Reypen and Ken Harper stood where Patty had left them, for a moment, as they watched their hoped-for partner dance away.
"There's no use getting mad at that child," said Ken, patiently; "sheWILL do as she likes."
"Well, after all, why shouldn't she? She's a reigning belle, and she's a law unto herself. But she has a lot of sense inside that golden curly head."
"Yes," returned Kenneth, "and not only sense, but a sound, sweet nature. Patty is growing up a coquette, but it is only because she is beset by flattery; and, too, she IS full of mischief. She can't help teasing her suitors, as she calls them."
"She can tease me all she likes," said Van Reypen, somewhat seriously, and Kenneth answered simply, "Me, too."
Next morning, Patty told Nan all about Mr. Cameron, and that gay little lady was greatly interested in the story.
"I knew he would be nice," said Nan, "from what you had already told me about him. Is he good-looking, Patty?"
"Yes,—no,—I don't know," returned Patty; "I don't believe I thought about it. He has an awfully nice face, and he's tall and big, and yet he's young-looking. At least, his eyes are. He has dark eyes, and they're just brimming over with mischief and fun, except when he's playing his violin."
"Then I suppose he has the regulation 'far away' look," commented Nan.
"Well, he doesn't look like a dying goat, if that's what you mean! but he looks like a real musician, and he is one."
"And a woman-hater, I believe?"
"Oh, it's rubbish to call him that! He's not crazy over girls, but it's because he thinks most of them are silly. He likes his two cousins,—and, Nan, don't breathe it, but I have a faint inkling of a suspicion of a premonition that he's going to like me!"
"Patty, you're a conceited little goose!"
"Nay, nay, my ducky stepmother, but I'd be a poor stick if I couldn't fascinate that youth after our romantic introduction."
"That's so; and I think you'll not have much trouble bringing him to your feet."
"Oh, I don't want him at my feet. And I don't want him to fall in love with me. I hate that sort of thing! I want him for a nice, chummy, comrade friend, and if I can't have him that way, I don't want him at all. There's Philip and Kenneth now; they've always been so nice. But lately they've taken to making sheep's eyes at me and flinging out bits of foolishness here and there that make me tired! A debutante's life is not a happy one!"
Patty drew such a long, deep sigh, that Nan burst into laughter.
"I would feel sorry for you, Patty," she said, "but I can't help thinking that you're quite able to look out for yourself."
"'Deed I am! When they talk mush, I just giggle at 'em. It brings 'em down pretty quick from their highfalutin nonsense!"
The two were sitting in Patty's boudoir, which was such a bright, sunny room that many a morning hour was pleasantly passed together there by these two friends. Patty was fortunate in having a stepmother so in sympathy with her pursuits and pleasures, and Nan was equally fortunate in having warm-hearted, sunny-natured Patty with her.
Jane came in, bringing an enormous box from a florist.
"My prophetic soul!" cried Patty. "My efforts were not in vain! I feel it in my funnybone that my latest Prince Charming has sent me a posy."
Nor was she wrong. The box contained a bewildering array of spring flowers. Delicate blossoms of jonquils, hyacinths, lilacs, daffodils, and other dainty, fragile flowers that breathed of spring.
"Aren't they lovely!" And Patty buried her face in the fragrant mass of bloom.
"Here's a card," said Nan, picking up a white envelope.
Patty drew out Mr. Cameron's card, and on it was written: "To PrincessPoppycheek; that they may tell all that I may not speak."
"Now that's a real nice sentiment," Patty declared; "you see, it doesn't commit him to anything, and yet it sounds pretty. Oh, I shall end by adoring that young man! Bring me some bowls and things, please, Jane; I want to arrange this flower garden myself."
Jane departed with the box and papers, and returned with a tray, on which were several bowls and vases filled with water.
Patty always enjoyed arranging flowers, and she massed them in the bowls, with taste and skill as to color and arrangement.
"There!" she said, as she finished her task; "they do look beautiful, though I say it as shouldn't. Now, I think I shall sit me down and write a sweet gushing note of thanks, while I'm in the notion. For I've a lot on to-day, and I can't devote much time to this particular suitor."
"Suitor is a slang word, Patty; you oughtn't to use it."
"Fiddle-dee-dee! if I didn't use any slang, I couldn't talk at all! And suitor isn't exactly slang; it's the word in current fashion for any pleasant young gentleman who sends flowers, or otherwise favors any pleasant young lady. Everybody in society knows what it means, so don't act old fogy,—Nancy Dancy."
Patty dropped a butterfly kiss on Nan's brow, and then pirouetted across the room to her writing desk.
"Shall I begin, 'My Dear Suitor'?" she said, and then giggled to see the shocked look on Nan's face.
"It wouldn't matter; he would understand," she said, carelessly, "but I think I can do better than that."
"Well, I'll leave you to yourself," said Nan; "not out of special consideration for your comfort, but because it doesn't interest me to watch anybody write letters."
"By-by," and Patty waved her hand, absentmindedly, as Nan left the room.
Then she applied herself to her task.
"Most Courteous Knight," she began; "The flowers are beautiful,—and they are saying lovely things to me. They say they are fresh and young and green. Oh, my goodness! I forgot that you said they were speaking for you! Well, then, they are saying that they are just the sort I like, and they are sure of a welcome. With many, many thanks, I am very sincerely yours, Patricia Poppycheek Fairfield."
And then Patty dismissed her Knight from her mind, and turned her attention to other matters. That afternoon about five o'clock, Mr. Cameron called.
"I scarcely hoped to find you at home," he said, as Patty greeted him in the drawing-room.
"It isn't our day," she returned, "but I chanced to be in, and I'm glad of it. Nan, may I present Mr. Cameron?" And Nan accorded a pleasant welcome to the visitor.
"You see, Mrs. Fairfield," Cameron said, "I rarely go into society and I fear my manners are a bit rusty. So if I have come to call too soon, please forgive me."
His smile was so frank and his manner so easily correct, that Nan approved of him at once. She was punctilious in such matters, and she saw, through Kit's pretence at rustiness, that he was not lacking in etiquette or courtesy.
"Let's have tea in the library," said Patty; "you see, Mr. Cameron, we always invite people we like to have tea in there, rather than in this formal place."
"That suits me; I want to be considered one of the family, and what's the use of wasting a whole lot of time getting up to that point? Let's make believe we've always known each other."
So tea was served in the library, and a very pleasant informal feast it was.
Mr. Fairfield came in, and soon the whole quartette were chatting gaily as if they had always known each other.
Mr. Cameron was especially interested in Patty's club called "HappySaturdays."
"It's the kindest thing I ever heard of," he said, enthusiastically. "It does good to people who can't be reached by any organised charity. I don't want to intrude, Miss Fairfield, and I don't want to exploit myself, but if you ever give your Saturday friends a little musicale or anything like that, I'd jolly well like to play for you. I'll play popular stuff, or I'll play my best Sunday-go-to-meeting pieces, whichever you prefer."
"That's awfully nice of you," said Patty, smiling at him. "I've often thought I'd get up something of that sort."
"We might have it here," said Nan, "unless you mean to invite more people than we could take care of."
"I'd like to have it here," said Patty; "the drawing-room would easily seat sixty or seventy in an audience,—perhaps more. And I don't believe we could find more than that to invite. Although I know of a girls' club that I'd like to invite as a whole."
"It's a pretty big thing you're getting up, Pattikins," said Mr. Fairfield, smiling kindly at his enthusiastic daughter, "but if you think you can swing it, go ahead. I'll help all I can."
"It would upset the house terribly," said Nan; "but I don't mind that.I'm with you, Patty. Let's do it."
"If you're shy on the programme, I can get one or two fellows to help us out," said Cameron. "A chum of mine warbles a good baritone and I'm dead sure he'd like to help."
"I'm really a perfectly good singer," said Mr. Fairfield, "but my voice is not appreciated nowadays. So I'm going to decline all requests to sing, however insistent. But I'll help you out this way, Patsy-Poppet. I'll set up the supper for the whole crowd."
"Oh, daddy, how good you are!" and Patty leaned over to give her father's hand an affectionate squeeze. "It will be just lovely! We'll give those people a real musical treat, and a lovely supper to wind up with. Really, Mr. Cameron, you are to be thanked for all this, for you first suggested it. Our club has never done such a big thing before. I know the girls will be delighted!"
Unable to wait, Patty flew to the telephone and called up Mona, who was one of the most earnest workers of the club. As she had fore-seen, Mona was greatly pleased, and they immediately planned a meeting for the next morning to perfect the arrangements.
"And incidentally, and aside from giving a musical entertainment to your poor but worthy young friends, won't you go with me next week to enjoy some music yourself?" said Cameron to Patty, as he was about to take leave.
"Where?" she asked.
"I want to have a little opera party. Only half a dozen of us. TheHepworths will be our chaperons, and if you will go, I'll ask my cousinMarie and Mr. Harper."
"Why not Mr. Van Reypen?" said Patty, mischievously.
"Me deadly rival! never! nevaire! how could you cruelly suggest it?"
"I didn't mean it. Forget it," and Patty smiled at him.
"All right, it's forgotten, but don't EVER let such a thing occur again!"
And then Mr. Cameron reluctantly took himself off.
Somehow or other Mr. Cameron immediately became a prominent factor in the Fairfield household. He appeared frequently, and even more frequently he telephoned or he wrote notes or he sent flowers or messages, until Patty declared he was everlastingly under foot!
But he was so gay and good-natured, so full of pranks and foolery, that it was impossible to snub him or to be annoyed with him.
He was a civil engineer, having already built up a good-sized business. But he seemed to be both able and willing to leave his office at any hour of the day or night for any occasion where Patty was concerned.
But he apparently fulfilled her wishes as to being her friend and chum and comrade, without falling in love with her.
"He's a thoroughly nice chap," Mr. Fairfield often said; "good-natured and right-minded, as well as clever and talented."
So, as he was also a favourite with Nan, he dropped in at the Fairfield house very often, and Patty grew to like him very much.
The opera party had duly taken place and had been a pleasant success. The musical entertainment was being planned for some weeks hence, as it was not easy to find a near-by date which suited all concerned.
One morning, as Patty was fluttering around her boudoir and looking over her mail, the telephone rang and the familiar "Hello, Princess," sounded in her ear.
"Hello, most noble Knight," she responded, "what would'st thou of me?"
"A boon so great that I fear to ask it! Won't you promise it in advance?"
"What I promise in advance, I never fulfil."
"Don't do it, then! I'll ask you first. You see, it's this way. My angelic and altogether delightful sister Lora lives in Eastchester with her stalwart husband and a blossom-bud of a kiddy. Now it seems that there's a wonderful country-club ball up there, and she thinks it will be nice if you and I should attend that same."
"And what do YOU think about it?"
"Oh, I don't have any thoughts concerning it, until I know what YOU think. And then, of course, that's precisely whatIthink."
"When is it?"
"To-morrow night."
"Mercy me! So soon! Well, I haven't anything on for to-morrow night; but the next night Mr. Van Reypen is making a theatre party for me that I wouldn't miss for anything."
"H'm! how LOVELY! Well, Princess, what say you to my humble plea?"
"What are your plans? How do I get there?"
"Why, thusly; my sister will invite you to her home, and incidentally to the ball. She will also ask my cousin Marie and Mr. Harper, who is not at all averse, it seems to me, to playing Marie's little lamb!"
"Have you noticed that? So have I. Well, go on."
"Well, then, I thought it would be nice if we four should motor out to Eastchester to-morrow afternoon, go straight to sister's, do up the ball business and motor back the next day. There's the whole case in a nutshell. Now pronounce my doom!"
"It seems to me just the nicest sort of a racket, and if your sister invites me, I shall most certainly accept."
"Oh, bless you for ever! Princess Poppycheek. I shall telephone Lora at once, and she will write you an invitation on her best stationery, and she will also telephone you, and if you wish it she will come and call on you."
"No, don't bother her to do that. I've met her, you know, and if she either writes or telephones, it will be all right. What time do we start?"
"About three, so as to make it easily by tea-time."
"I'll be ready. Count on me. Good-bye."
Patty hung up the telephone suddenly, as she always did. She often said it was her opinion that more time was wasted in this world by people who didn't know how to say good-bye, than from any other cause. And her minutes were too precious to be spent on a telephone, after the main subject of conversation had been finished.
She danced downstairs to tell Nan all about it.
"Very nice party," Nan approved; "I've met Mrs. Perry, you know, and she's charming. You'll be home Thursday, of course. You know you've a theatre party that night."
"Yes, I know; I'll be home," said Patty, abstractedly. "What would you take for the ball, Nan? My pink chiffon or my yellow satin?"
"They're both so pretty, it's hard to choose. The yellow satin, I think; it's a dream of a frock."
Mrs. Perry wrote a most cordial invitation and also telephoned, saying how glad she would be to welcome Patty to her home.
And so, the next afternoon, the young people started on their motor trip.
It was easily accomplished in two hours, and then Patty found herself a very much honoured guest in Mrs. Perry's pleasant home.
"It's dear of you to come," said the vivacious little hostess, as she took Patty and Marie to their rooms upon their arrival.
"It's dear of you to ask me." returned Patty; "I love to go to parties, and I love to go into new people's houses,—I mean people's new houses,—oh, well, you know what I mean; I mean HERE!"
"The house IS new," said Mrs. Perry, laughing, "but we're getting to be old people, and we want you young folks to liven us up."
"Old people!" and Patty smiled at the pretty young matron.
"Yes, wait till you see my baby. She's almost three years old! Fancy my going to balls, with a big girl like that."
"You're just fishing," said Patty, laughingly, "and I shan't humour you. I know you young mothers! You go to a party, and you're the belles, and leave all us wall-flowers green with envy!"
Mrs. Perry's eyes twinkled, and she looked so roguish that Patty exclaimed, "You're exactly like Mr. Cameron! I can well believe you're his sister."
"Who's he? Oh, you mean Kit! I don't think I ever heard him called Mr. Cameron before, and it does sound so funny! Can't we persuade you to say Kit?"
"I don't mind, if he doesn't," said Patty, carelessly. "What a darling room this is!"
"Yes; this is one of my pet rooms. I always give it to my favourite guests."
"I don't wonder," and Patty looked round admiringly at the dainty draperies and pretty appointments of the chamber.
"Marie always has it when she's here; but, of course, she was glad to give it up to you, and I put her in the blue room just across the hall. Come now, powder your nose, we must run down to tea. Don't change your frock."
Patty had worn a little silk house gown under her motor coat, so after a brief adjustment of her tumbled curls she was ready to go down.
The Perrys' was a modern house of an elaborate type. There were many rooms, on varying levels, so that one was continually going up or down a few broad steps. Often the rooms were separated only by columns or by railings, which made the whole interior diversified and picturesque.
"Such a gem of a house!" exclaimed Patty, as she entered the tea-room."So many cosy, snuggly places,—and so warm and balmy."
She dropped into a lot of silken cushions that were piled in the corner of an inglenook, and placed her feet daintily on a footstool in front of the blazing fire.
"Awful dinky!" said Kit, as he pushed aside some cushions and sat down beside Patty, "but a jolly good house to visit in."
"Yes, it is," said Marie, who was nestled in an easy-chair the other side of the great fireplace. "And it's so light and pleasant. We never get any sunlight, home."
"Nonsense, Marie," said Kit, "our apartments are unusually light ones."
"Well, it's a different kind of light," protested Marie. "It only comes from across the street, and here the light comes clear from the horizon."
"It does," agreed Mrs. Perry, "but we're getting the very last rays now. Ring for lights, Kit."
"No, sister, let's just have the firelight. It's more becoming, anyway."
So Mrs. Perry merely turned on one pink-shaded light near the tea table and let her guests enjoy the twilight and firelight.
"Country life is 'way ahead of city existence," remarked Kenneth, as he made himself useful in passing the teacups. "The whole atmosphere is different. When I marry and settle down, I shall be a country gentleman."
"How interesting!" cried Patty. "I should love to see you, Ken, superintending your gardener and showing him how to plant cabbages!"
"Dead easy," retorted Kenneth; "I'd have a gardener show me first, and when the next gardener came I could show him."
"Well, I don't want to live in the country," said Kit; "it's great to visit here, that's what sisters' houses are for; but I couldn't live so far away from the busy mart. Back to the stones for mine."
When their host, Dick Perry, arrived he came in with a genial, breezy manner and warmly welcomed the guests.
"Well, well!" he exclaimed, "this IS a treat! To come home at night and find a lot of gay and festive young people gathered around! Lora, why don't we do this oftener? Nothing like a lot of young people to make a home merry. How are you, Marie? Glad to see you again, Miss Fairfield."
Mr. Perry bustled around, flung off his coat, accepted a cup of tea from his wife, and then, coming over toward Patty, he ordered Kit Cameron to vacate, and he took his place.
"You're not to be monopolised by that brother-in-law of mine, Miss Fairfield," he said, as he sat down beside her. "He's a clever young chap, I admit, but he can't always get ahead of me."
Patty responded laughingly to this gay banter, and the tea hour passed all too quickly, and it was time to dress for dinner.
"We'll put on our party frocks before dinner," said Mrs. Perry, as she went upstairs with the girls; "and then we won't have to dress twice. I'll send you a maid, Miss Fairfield."
"Thank you," said Patty, "but I can look after myself fairly well,—until it comes to hooking up. I always do my own hair."
"It can't be much trouble," said Mrs. Perry, looking admiringly at the golden curls, "for it looks lovely whatever way you do it."
Patty slipped on a kimono and brushed out her shining mass of curls. As Mrs. Perry had rightly said, Patty's coiffure was not troublesome, for however she bunched up the gleaming mass it looked exactly right. She twisted it up with care, however, and added a marvellous ornament of a bandeau, which circled halfway round her head, and above which a gilt butterfly was tremblingly poised. It was too early to get into her frock, so Patty flung herself into a big chair before the crackling fire, and gave herself up to daydreams. She dearly loved to idle this way and she fell to thinking, naturally, of the home she was visiting and the people who lived there.
Patty still sat dreaming these idle fancies, when there was a tap at the door and, in response to her permission, a maid entered.
"I'm Babette," she said, "and I have come to help you with your gown."
"Thank you," said Patty, jumping up; "it's later than I thought. We must make haste."
With experienced deftness, the French maid arrayed Patty in the beautiful evening gown of yellow satin, veiled with a shimmering yellow gauze.
Although unusual for a blonde, yellow was exceedingly becoming to Patty, and she looked like an exquisite spring blossom in the soft, sheath-like jonquil-coloured gown.
Her dainty satin slippers and silk stockings were of the same pale yellow, as was also the filmy scarf, which she knew how to wear so gracefully.
Her only ornament was a string of pearls, which had been her mother's.
When she was all ready she went slowly down the winding staircase, looking about her at the interesting house. A broad landing halfway down showed an attractive window-seat, and Patty sat down there for a moment.
There seemed to be no one in the hall below, and Patty concluded that she was early after all, though she had feared she would be late.
In a moment Kit came down and spied her.
"Hello, Princess!" he cried. "You're a yellow poppy to-night,—and a gay little blossom, too."
"Not yellow poppyCHEEK!" cried Patty, rubbing her pink cheeks in mock dismay.
"Well, no; only one who is colour-blind could call those pink cheeks yellow. May I pose beside you, here, and make a beautiful tableau?"
He sat beside Patty on the window-seat, and they wondered why the rest were so late.
"Prinking, I suppose," said Kit. "How did you manage to get ready so soon?"
"Why, just because I thought I was late, and so I hurried."
"Didn't know a girl COULD hurry,—accept my compliments." And Kit rose and made an exaggerated bow.
"What's going on?" said Dick Perry, gaily, as he came downstairs and paused on the landing.
"Only homage at the shrine of Beauty," returned Kit.
"Let me homage, too," said Mr. Perry, and they both bowed and scraped, until Patty went off in a gale of laughter and said: "You ridiculous boys, you look like popinjays! But here comes Marie; now more homage is due."
Marie came down the steps slowly and gracefully, looking very pretty in pale green, with tiny pink rosebuds for trimming.
"Good for you, Marie!" exclaimed her cousin. "Your dress gees with MissFairfield's first-rate. You'll do!"
And then the others came, and the merry group went out to dinner.
After dinner they started at once for the country-club ball. It was to be a very large affair, and, as Patty knew no one except their own house party, she declared that she knew she'd be a wall-flower.
"Wall-flower, indeed!" said Kit. "Poppies don't grow on walls. They grow right in the middle of the field, and sway and dance in the breeze."
"I always said you were a poet," returned Patty, "and you do have the prettiest fancies."
"I fancy YOU, if that's what you mean," Kit replied, and Patty gave him a haughty glance for his impertinence.
Then Babette put on Patty's coat, which was a really gorgeous affair. It was what is known as a Mandarin coat, of white silk, heavily embroidered with gold, and very quaint she looked in it.
"That thing must weigh a ton," commented Kit. "Why do you girls want to wear Chinese togs?"
"It's a beautiful coat," said Mrs. Perry, admiringly. "Have you been toChina, Miss Fairfield?"
"No; I never have. This was a Christmas present, and I'm awfully fond of it. I'm afraid I'm barbaric in my love of bright, glittering things."
"A very civilised little barbarian," said Mr. Perry, and then they all went off to the ball.
"How many may I have?" said Kit, as he took Patty's programme from her hand after they were in the ballroom.
"As I don't know any one else, I shall have to dance them all with you and Ken," returned Patty, demurely.
"Never mind Harper; give them all to me."
Patty looked at him calmly. "I'll tell you what," she said: "you put down your initials for every dance; then, if I do find any partners I like better, I'll give them dances; and, if not, you see I'll have you to depend on."
Cameron stared at her, but Patty looked at him with an innocent smile, as if she were not asking anything extraordinary.
"Well, you've got a nerve!" the young man exclaimed.
"Why, it was your own proposition that you have all the dances;" andPatty looked almost offended.
"Poppycheek, you shall have it your own way! You shall have anything you want, thatIcan give you." And Cameron scribbled his initials against every one of the twenty dances on the programme.
"You might have put K. C. to the first and then ditto after that," saidPatty, as she watched him.
"Nay, nay, Pauline!" and Kit gave her a shrewd glance. "Think what would happen then. You'd give a dance to some other man, maybe, and he'd set down his initials, and all the rest of the dittos would refer to him!"
"Poor man! I never thought of that! But it isn't likely there'll be any others except Ken."
"Oh, don't you worry! Everybody will want an introduction to you, after they see you dance."
"I don't think much of that for a compliment! I'd rather be loved for my sweet self alone."
"Have you never been?"
"Many, many times!" and Patty sighed in mock despair. "But my love affairs always end tragically."
"Your suitors drown themselves, I suppose?"
"Do you mean if I encourage them?"
"Do you know what a silly you are?"
"Do you know what a goose YOU are?"
"Children, stop quarrelling," and Mrs. Perry smiled at the chattering pair. "Miss Fairfield, several amiable young men of my acquaintance desire to be presented to you. May I?"
Patty smilingly acquiesced, and in a moment half a dozen would-be partners were asking for dances.
They looked rather taken aback at sight of Patty's card, but she calmly explained to them the true condition of things, and they accepted the situation with smiles of admiration for a girl who could command such an arrangement. Patty would not give more than one dance to each, as she wanted to find out which ones she liked best.
Mr. Perry brought up some of his acquaintances, too, and shortly Patty's programme showed an astonishing lot of hieroglyphics scribbled over Kit's initials.
"Here are twelve dances you may have for your other friends," said Patty, to Mr. Cameron. "Take the numbers as I call them off: one, two, three——"
"Oh, wait a minute! Have you given them all away?"
"No; only the first twelve, so far. But cheer up! I may be able to dispose of the others."
"You're a naughty, bad, mean little princess; and I don't love you any more."
Kit looked reproachfully at Patty, with his eyes so full of disappointment that she relented.
"I didn't give away the first one, really," she said, softly. "I saved that for you."
"You blessed, dear, sweet little Princess you! Now, don't give away any more, will you? I know you'll have thousands of requests."
"I'll see about it," was all Patty would promise, and then the music began and they stepped out on to the dancing floor.
"Which do you like best of all the boys you've met?" asked Kit, as they danced.
"What a question! How can I possibly tell, when a dozen well-behaved and serious-looking young men stand up like a class in school and say, one after another, 'May I have the honour of a dance, Miss Fairfield?' They all looked exactly alike to me. Except one. There was one boy, who looks so much like me he might be my brother. I never had a brother, and I've a good notion to adopt him as one."
"Don't! There's nothing so dangerous as adopting a young man for a brother! But I know who you mean,—Eddie Bell. He doesn't look a bit like you, but he HAS yellow curls and blue eyes."
"And pink cheeks," supplemented Patty.
"Yes, but not poppy cheeks; they're more the pink of a—of a—horsechestnut!"
"I think pink horsechestnut blooms are beautiful."
"Oh, you do, do you? And I suppose you think Eddie Bell is beautiful!"
"Well, there's no occasion for you to get mad about it if I do. Do you know, Mr. Cameron, you flare up very easily."
"If you'll call me Kit, I'll promise never to flare up again."
"Certainly, I'll call you Kit. I'd just as lieve as not; anything to oblige."
"And may I call you Patty?"
"Why, yes, if you like."
"Look here, you're altogether too indifferent about it."
"Oh, what a boy!" And Patty rolled her eyes up in despair. "If I don't want him to call me Patty, he doesn't like it; and if I do let him call me Patty, he isn't satisfied! What to do,—what to do!"
"You're a little tease,—THAT'S what you are!"
"And you're a big tease, that's what YOU are! I've heard you're even fond of practical jokes! Now, I detest practical jokes."
"That's an awful pity, for I mean to play one on you the very first chance I get."
"You can't do it?"
"Why can't I?"
"Because I'd discover it, and foil you."
"There's no such word as foil in my bright lexicon. I'll lay you a wager, if you like, that I play a practical joke on you, that you, yourself, will admit is clever and not unkind. That's the test of a right kind of a joke,—to be clever and not unkind."
Patty's eyes danced. "You have the right idea about it," she said, nodding her head approvingly. "I don't so much mind a practical joke, if it is really a good one, and doesn't make the victim feel hurt or chagrined. But all the same, Mr. Kit, you can't get one off on me! I'm a little too wide-awake, as you'll find out."
"Would you take a wager?"
"I'm not in the habit of betting, but I'm willing for once. It's hardly fair, though, for I'm betting on a dead certainty."
"You mean you THINK you are! And I thinkIam, so the chances are even. What are the stakes?"
"I don't care: candy or books or flowers or anything."
"Nonsense, they're too prosaic. If I win, you're to give me a photograph of yourself."
"Oh, I almost never give my picture to my suitors. It isn't good form."
"But, if you're so sure that you will win, you needn't be afraid to promise it."
"All right, I promise; and, if I win, you may give me a perfectly beautiful picture frame, in which I shall put some other man's picture."
"How cruel you can be! But, as I'm sure of winning, I'm not afraid to take that up. A frame against a picture, then. But there must be a time limit."
"I'll give you a month; if you can't do it in that time, you can't do it at all. And, also, I must be the judge,—if you do fool me,—whether your practical joke is clever and not unkind."
"I'm quite contented that you should be the judge, for I know your sincere and honest nature will not let you swerve a hair's breadth from a true and fair judgment."
"That's clever," returned Patty; "for now I shall have to be honest."
The first dance over, Patty went on with a long succession of dances with her various partners. They were all polite and courteous young men, some attractive and agreeable, others shy, and some dull and uninteresting. Patty complacently accorded another dance to any one she liked, and calmly refused it to less desirable partners,—pleading an engagement with Cameron as her excuse.
The one she liked best was Eddie Bell. As she had said, this young man did look a little like Patty herself, though this was mostly due to their similarity of colouring.
"If I may say anything so impossible, it seems to me that I look like a comic valentine of you," said Mr. Bell, as they began to dance.
Patty laughed outright at this apt expression of their resemblance, and said: "I have already told some one that you looked exactly like me. So, in that case, I'm a comic valentine, too. But, truly, you're enough like me to be my brother."
"May I be? Not that I want to, in the least, but of course that is the obvious thing to say. I'd rather be most any relation to you than a brother."
"Why?"
"Oh, it's such a prosaic relationship. I have three sisters,—and they're the dearest girls in the world,—but I don't really feel the need of any more."
"What would you like to be?" And Patty flashed him a dangerous glance of her pansy-blue eyes.
But Mr. Bell kept his equanimity. "How about second cousin, once removed?"
"I suppose you'll be removed at the end of this dance."
"Then, may this dance last for ever!"
"Oh, what a pretty speech! Of course, you wouldn't make that to a sister! I think a second cousinship is very pleasant."
"Then, that's settled. And I may call you Cousin Patty, I suppose?"
"It would seem absurd to say Cousin Miss Fairfield, wouldn't it? And yet our acquaintance is entirely too short for first names."
"But it's growing longer every minute; and, if you would grant me another dance after I'm removed from this one, I'm sure we could reach the stage of first names."
"I will give you one more," said Patty, for she liked Mr. Bell very much.
So at the end of their dance they agreed upon a number later on the programme, and Mr. Bell wrote down "Cousin Ed" on Patty's card.
It was just after this that Kit came back for his second dance.
"Naughty girl," he said; "you've kept me waiting three-quarters of the evening."
"I thought I saw you dancing with several visions of beauty."
"Only killing time till I could get back to you. Come on, don't waste a minute."
It was a joy to Patty to dance with Cameron, for he was by all odds the best dancer she had ever met. And many admiring glances followed them as they circled the great room.
"How did you like your little brother?" Kit enquired.
"He's a ducky-daddles!" declared Patty, enthusiastically. "Just a nice all-round boy, frank and jolly and good-natured."
"That's what I am."
"Not a bit of it! You're a musician; freakish, temperamental, touchy, and—a woman-hater."
"Gracious! what a character to live up to,—or down to. But I hate YOU awfully, don't I?"
"I don't know. I never can feel sure of these temperamental natures."
"Well, don't you worry about feeling sure of me. The longer you live, the surer you'll feel."
"That sounds like 'the longer she lives the shorter she grows,'" saidPatty, flippantly.
"Yes, the old nursery rhyme. Well, you are my candle,—a beacon, lighting my pathway with your golden beams——"
"Oh, do stop! That's beautiful talk, but it's such rubbish."
"Haven't you ever noticed that much beautiful talk IS rubbish?"
"Yes, I have. And I'm glad that you think that way, too. Beautiful thoughts are best expressed by plain, sincere words, and have little connection with 'beautiful talk.'"
"Patty Fairfield, you're a brick! And, when I've said that, I can't say anything more."
"A gold brick?"
"Not in the usual acceptance of that term; but you're pure gold, andI'm jolly well glad I've found a girl like you."
There was such a ring of sincerity in Cameron's tone that Patty looked up at him suddenly. And the honest look in his eyes made it impossible for her to return any flippant response.
"And I'm glad, too, that we are friends, Kit," she said, simply.
The next dance was Mr. Bell's, and that rosy-cheeked youth came up blithely to claim it.
"Come along, Cousin Patty," he said, and Cameron stared at him in amazement.
"Are you two cousins?" he said.
"Once removed," returned Eddie Bell, gaily; "and this is the removal." He took Patty's hand and laid it lightly within his own arm as he led her away.
"Don't let's dance right off," he begged. "Let's rest a minute in this bosky dell."
The dell was an alcove off the ballroom, which contained several palms and floral baskets and a deep, cushioned window-seat.
"Let's sit here and watch the moon rise;" and he led Patty toward the window-seat, where he deftly arranged some cushions for her.
"I believe the moon rises to-morrow afternoon," said Patty.
"Well, I don't mind waiting. Sit here, won't you? These stupid cushions ought to be of a golden yellow or a pale green. However, this old rose does fairly well for our blond beauty. Isn't it nice we're of the same type and harmonise with the same furnishings? When we're married we won't have to differ about our house decorations." "When we are WHAT?"
"Married, I said. You know, you're not really my second cousin and there's absolutely no bar to our union."
This was quite the most audacious young man Patty had ever met. But she was quite equal to the situation.
"Of course there isn't," she said, lightly. "And, when I think of the economy of our being able to use the same colour scheme, it IS an inducement."
"And meantime we must get better acquainted, as you said when we were dancing. May I come to see you in the city? Where do you live?"
"In Seventy-second Street," said Patty, "but I feel it my duty to tell you that there's already a long line awaiting admission."
"Oh, yes, I've seen that line when I've been passing. It goes clear round the corner of the block. Do I have to take my place at the end, or can I have a special favour shown me?"
"I'm sure your sense of justice wouldn't permit that. You take your place at the end of the line, and when your turn comes I'll be glad to welcome you."
"Then that's all right," said Mr. Bell, cheerfully, "and you'll be surprised to see how soon I appear! Now, lady fair, would you rather go and dance or sit here and listen to me converse?"
"It's pleasant to rest a little," and Patty nestled into her cushions, "and you really ARE amusing, you know. Let's stay here a little while."
"Now, isn't that nice of you! Do you want to talk, too, or shall I do it all and give you a complete rest?"
"You do it all," said Patty, indolently. "It will be like going to a monologue entertainment."
"At your orders. What subject would you like?"
"Yourself."
"Oh, wise beyond your years! You know the subject that most interests a man."
"That isn't pretty!" And Patty frowned at him. "There ought to be another subject more interesting to you than that!"
"There is; but I don't dare trust myself with HER!"
Mr. Bell's manner and voice were so exactly the right mixture of deferential homage and burlesque that Patty laughed in delight.
"You are the DEAREST man!" she cried.
He looked at her reproachfully. "You said I might do all the talking, and now you're doing it yourself."
"I'll be still now. Avoid that subject you consider dangerous and tell me all about yourself."
"Well, once upon a time, there was a beautiful young man who rejoiced in the poetic and musical name of Eddie Bell. I know he was a beautiful young man, because he was said to resemble the most beautiful girl in the whole world. Well, one evening he had the supreme good fortune to meet this girl, and he realised at once that he had met his Fate,—his Fate with a VERY large F. Incidentally, the F stood for Fairfield, which made his Fate all the more certain. And so——"
"Patty, are you here?" and Ken Harper came through the palms toward them. "This is our dance."
"Good gracious, Ken, is this dance the next dance? I mean is this dance over, or is this dance our dance."
"You seem a little mixed, Patty, but this is our dance and I claim it.Are you RESTED enough?"
Patty rose and, with a simple word of excuse to Mr. Bell, went away with Kenneth.
"That's the first time, Ken, in all our friendship that I ever knew you to say anything horrid," and Patty looked at him with a really hurt expression.
"I didn't say anything horrid," and Kenneth's fine face wore a sulky expression.
"You did, too. You asked me if I were RESTED in a horrid, sarcastic tone; and you meant it for a reproof, because I sat out that dance with Mr. Bell."
"You had no business to go and hide behind those palms with him."
"We didn't hide! That's only a bay-window alcove,—a part of the ballroom. I have a perfect right to sit out a dance if I choose."
"That young chap was too familiar, anyway. I heard him calling you'Cousin Patty.'"
"Oh, fiddlestrings, Ken! Don't be an idiot! We were only joking. AndI'm not so old, yet, but what I can let a boy call me by my first nameif I choose. When I'm twenty I'm going to be Miss Fairfield; but whileI'm nineteen anybody can call me Patty,—if I give him permission."
"You're a flirt, Patty."
"All right, Ken. Flirt with me, won't you?" Patty's roguish blue eyes looked at Kenneth with such a frank and friendly glance that he couldn't scold her any more.
"I can't flirt with you, Patty. I'm not that sort. You know very well I've only a plain, plodding sort of a mind, and I can't keep up with this repartee and persiflage that you carry on with these other chaps."
"I don't carry on," said Patty, laughing.
"I didn't say you carried on," returned Kenneth, who took everything seriously. "I meant you carried on conversations that are full of wit and repartee, of a sort that I can't get off."
"Nobody wants you to, you dear old Ken! You wouldn't be half as nice if you were as foolish and frivolous as these society chatterboxes! You've got more sterling worth and real intellect in your make-up than they ever dreamed of. Now, stop your nonsense and come on and dance. But—don't undertake to lecture Patty Fairfield,—she won't stand for it!"
"I didn't mean to lecture you, Patty," and Kenneth spoke very humbly. "But when I saw you tucked away behind those palms, flirting with that yellow-headed rattle-pate, I felt that I ought to speak to you."
"You SPOKE, all right!" and Patty looked at him severely. "But you know perfectly well, Kenneth Harper, that I wasn't doing anything I oughtn't to. You know perfectly well that, though I like what you call 'flirting,' I'm never the least bit unconventional and I never forget the strictest law of etiquette and propriety. I'd scorn to do such a thing!"
Patty's blue eyes were blazing now with righteous indignation, for Kenneth had been unjust, and Patty would not stand injustice. She was punctilious in matters of etiquette, and she had not overstepped any bounds by sitting out a dance in that alcove, which was a part of the ballroom and a refuge for any one weary of dancing.
"And you know perfectly well, Kenneth," she went on, "that you DIDN'T think I was unconventional, or anything of the sort. You were only——"
Patty paused, for she didn't quite want to say what was in her mind.
"You're right, Little Patty," and Kenneth looked her straight in the eyes; "you're right. I WAS jealous. Yes, and envious. It always hurts me to see you laughing and talking in that darling little way of yours, and to know thatIcan't make you talk like that. I wish I weren't such a stupid-head! I wishIcould say things that would make you play your pretty fooleries with ME."
Patty looked at him in amazement. She had never suspected that serious-minded, hard-working Kenneth had anything but scorn for men of less mental calibre and quicker wit.
"Why, Kenneth," she said, gently, "don't talk like that. My friendship for you is worth a dozen of these silly foolery flirtations with men that I don't care two cents for."
"I don't want your friendship, Patty," and Kenneth's deep voice trembled a little; "I mean I don't want ONLY your friendship. And yet I know I can't hope for anything more. I'm too dull and commonplace to attract a beautiful butterfly like you."
"Kenneth," and Patty gave him a glance, gentle, but a little bewildered, "you're out of your head. You have a splendid head, Kenneth, full of wonderful brains, but you're out of it. You get yourself back into it as quick as you can! And don't let's dance this dance, please; I am tired. I wish you'd take me to Mrs. Perry."
In silence, Kenneth complied with Patty's wish, and took her to whereLora Perry was sitting.
Then he went away, leaving Patty much more disturbed by what he had said than by all the gay fooleries of Eddie Bell or Kit Cameron.